


How a Broken Chandelier got Dean a Date

by ArielAquarial



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Carpenter Castiel, Castiel & Sam Winchester Friendship, First Meetings, Flirting with hamburgers, M/M, Pining Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 12:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15119504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArielAquarial/pseuds/ArielAquarial
Summary: Dean paced back and forth in his brothers living room, from the mounted TV to the front door, over and over again to the point that Dean was sure he was going to leave a permanent indent in their nice plush carpet. It wouldn’t matter if Dean was dead though. Which he was. Dead. Or soon, at least. The moment Sam and Eileen returned home to see that Dean had absolutely ruined their handmade, hand carved, ‘made by gods own hands’ dining table, they would kill him.





	How a Broken Chandelier got Dean a Date

Dean paced back and forth in his brothers living room, from the mounted TV to the front door, over and over again to the point that Dean was sure he was going to leave a permanent indent in their nice plush carpet. It wouldn’t matter if Dean was dead though. Which he was. Dead. Or soon, at least. The moment Sam and Eileen returned home to see that Dean had absolutely _ruined_ their handmade, hand carved, ‘ _made by gods own hands_ ’ dining table, they would kill him. Actually, now that Dean had time to actually think about it, it would probably be Eileen. She’d gushed over the thing, had sent text updates in their group chat when it was being built, and was already planning on passing down to her children. Yes, it would be her that would kill him, with Sammy watching the whole thing unsympathetically. It was already being considered an heirloom, and Dean fucked it up in one fell swoop.

He had been housesitting for the couple as they went on their anniversary vacation, two flipping weeks in the Swiss Alps, and it had only taken Dean four days to fuck it all up.

They had warned him against inviting guests over, had given him all of the instructions for taking care of their flower beds, and even gave him permission to eat everything in their fridge…but they never told him not to trip over the chandelier chord, causing it to break the bracket holding it to the ceiling, and then watch in horror as it crashed into the table and fucked up the wood on top. Who had those chandeliers that plugged into the wall anymore? Grandmas, that’s who! Wasn’t that one of the things that Sammy had been planning to renovate? Hadn’t Dean and Sam made plans to rig it so that the chandelier connected to the ceiling instead of a fucking plug?

Dean was going to be murdered, and with Eileen’s connections at the station, no one was ever going to find his body.

He walked over to the table and examined it once again. He was fucked. The whole thing was scratched, and one piece of crystal was still wedged in there. He couldn’t hide it, and he sure as hell couldn’t fix it. What could he do? Maybe if he put a table cloth on it, Sam and Eileen wouldn’t notice right away. Then, he could get the hell out of town and take his own vacation until things blew over. Him and baby could take a nice _long_ road trip.

Fuck. He was dead. Dean pulled out his phone and immediately googled solutions. Apparently, rubbing olive oil into the scratch was a popular solution, but these scratched were definitely too deep. Even if he was able to get the shine back, there were still going to be visible scratches in the wood. Another option was to fill in the scratches with a kind of brown resin, but that was definitely too obvious! Search after search brought no real solutions to Dean.

Dean flopped onto the couch and groaned. 10 more days and then they’d be back. 10 days to freak out and let his guilt fester.

With a sigh, Dean searched in his contacts for Charlie. Maybe she knew something, or at least had better googling skills than him. He deliberated calling her, but quickly decided against it, at least with a text he wouldn’t be able to hear him laugh at him.

 **Dean:** SOS!

 **Charlie** : I dream of Deanie!  
Whats up?

 **Dean:** You’re crafty, right?  
I know you make your own cosplays and stuff  
Do you have anything that can fix a table

 **Charlie:** LOL  
Like a broken leg?????

 **Dean:** Scratches

 **Charlie:** Does this have anything to do with Sam’s new table?

Dean cursed under his breath.

 **Dean:** Maybe

Charlie: You’re so dead!!

 **Dean:** I know  
What do I do

 **Charlie:** How bad??

Dean glanced back at the table and tried to see it without a mind full of anxiety.

Dean: Bad  
Deep scratches  
Help me write a will

Charlie: NO!!1!

Immediately, the phone began ringing.

Dean groaned into the phone. “I’m going to be murdered in exactly 10 days. Will you help me put a will together and plan my funeral?”

Charlie was quiet for a moment. “What did you do?”

With a sigh, Dean started retelling the story, from the tripping over the chord to the searching for answers. “And now Eileen is going to cry, and Sammy is going to kick my ass. I don’t even want to know how much that thing cost them…”

“Ooh Dean.” She laughed lightly in the background. “Well, something similar happened to me a few years ago and I absolutely ruined Gilda’s dining table. The accident involved a LAN party, so don’t ask. It wasn’t a hand carved table or anything, but it sure as hell wasn’t IKEA and the thing cost her a pretty penny. She ended up having to get the top refinished.”

Dean perked up. “I can just refinish it? What, like sand it down and paint it?”

“Uh, Dean…” She cleared her throat. “Are you sure that’s something you can do?”

He scoffed. “Of course! It cant be too hard.”

“So let me get this straight. Not only are you going to refinish something for the first time, but you’re going to do it to your brothers hand carved dining table?” He could hear the laugh she was holding back. “And how are you even going to match the stains?”

Dean turned towards the table and cave it a cursory glance. “Well, its brown so…”

“Brown.” She repeated. “Hold on, this is great. I’m going to text Gilda.”

“Charlie.” He growled. “I’m serious.”

“And so am I. There are tons of ‘brown’ stains, and you have to pick the exact one. And then you’ll have to put the shiny stuff on top, whatever that’s called, and then you have to make it look exactly like it did before or they’re going to know and then be even more pissed that you tried to hide it.”

“So I’m screwed.”

She scoffed. “No, you dummy. Someone made that table, right? So they can fix it.”

“Charlie you beautiful genius.” He got to his feet and began his pacing again. “How am I going to find the carpenter? Ya think he’s in the phone book?”

“Is that still a thing, Grandpa?”

“Hey!” He grumbled. “I’m only a few years older than you…”

“Six, actually. Just face it, Dean.” He could hear her typing away at her computer. “No one uses the phone book anymore.”

Dean huffed in annoyance. “Then what should I use?”

“Hm…does it have any markings on it? Like a stamp on the bottom, or some kind of number?

On his hands and knees, Dean got under the table and looked at the underside. “Um, it says ‘C. Novak’ and it has some kind of stamp.” He crawled further under and squinted at the picture. “Wings…I think.”

“Novak…wings…” More clicking of the keys. “Ah, got it. Castiel Novak, come to mama. Ok, so it looks like he’s local. Really local, actually. Um…I’m texting you the number to his shop right now.”

Dean pulled the phone away from his ear as soon as he felt the vibration of an incoming text and watched with glee as the number appeared. “Thank you, Charlie. I owe you one.”

She laughed. “Don’t worry about this one. I’m a generous Queen.”

Dean ended the phone call with an eye roll and immediately set to calling the number that Charlie had texted over.

Someone picked up on the third ring. “Hello, this is ‘Castiel’s Custom Woodworking’, Gabriel speaking.”

“Uh, yeah…” Dean rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. “I have a table that needs to be repaired.”

“Repairs?” the man repeated. “No can do, man. The craftsman has a tight schedule and doesn’t have time to repair or do any kind of restorations. It will be at least another month before he has an open slot. I can redirect you to a few other shops, but...” he trailed off.

“Shit…” Dean cursed. “You don’t understand…my brother just got this table a month ago. I was only housesitting for a few days, and ruined the damn thing-”

The man cut him off. “Dude, I’m sorry that happened, but-”

“-been bragging about this table nonstop and his wife-”

“-very busy man-”

“-my brother’s going to kill me-”

“-we’re not a repair shop-”

“-and now Sam and Eileen’s anniversary vacation is ruined-”

“-gonna gave to call- wait…did you say Sam and Eileen?”

Dean paused. “Uh…yeah. My brother Sam Winchester and his wife Eileen.”

Gabriel let out a chuckle. “So you’re Dean? The infamous brother that Sam keeps talking about?”

He frowned. “Uh…yes?”

“Oh, god. This is great. Hold on.” There was a pause before he began talking again, this time his voice was quieter as he spoke away from the phone. “Cassie! Cassie, take your headphones off!” he paused for a moment. “Ya know that table you did for Sammich?” there was another voice, this one too muffled to understand. “Yeah, that one! His bro is on the phone!” there was another pause where Dean could hear more muffling, and then Gabriel burst into laughter. “I don’t know, but he’s calling about a repair!”

“Hello?” Dean tried. He needed to know if he had to take an impromptu vacation or not ASAP.

“Hold on, Dean-o. I’m trying to work some magic here…” he pulled the phone away from his ear to listen to the muffled speaking of ‘Cassie’. “Yeah, I know…No, I don’t think so…Yeah, I think it was Switzerland…I don’t know, like two orders?...A set of bedside tables and the rocking chair…Uh-huh…Yeah...Ok...Well, Dean-o, it looks like Cassie can fit you in. He’ll be over at 12.”

It took Dean a few seconds to realize he was being spoken to. “Over? Like, at the house?”

“Yep! He’ll fix it over there. We don’t have the room right now. Don’t know if you know this, kiddo, but we’re just a small shop over here.”

Dean glanced back at the table and bit his lip. “Ok, great. Thank you, man. I really appreciate it.”

Gabriel scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’re doing it for Sam. Capiche? I was serious when I said we don’t do repairs, especially since people usually take care of their hand carved furniture, that shit gets contracted elsewhere. Cassie has enough work on his hands…”

“I get it! I really do, man.” Dean rushed out, just happy that he still stood a chance. “Thank you-” He was cut off by the dial tone ad he didn’t even care. Someone was coming over who could fix the table. The man himself, it would seem. He didn’t even mind that Gabriel had hung up on him, nor did he realize that Gabriel had never asked him for an address.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

The second the doorbell rang at 12pm, Dean scrambled to his feet and pulled the door open. “Thank you so much for coming over, I know Gabe said you- Oh…”

Dean froze in place, his tongue no longer working as he stared at the man before him. When Dean said the table had been made by the hands of god, he had been joking, but this man- with his blue eyes and 5 o’clock shadow- had the face of a god. Or an angel. Deans brain really wasn’t working well enough to come to a decision. He had to physically pull his gaze from the man's face, but what his eyes landed on was no better. Arms, corded with muscle, held a large toolbox. The thing was heavy…if the way his tanned arms bulged beneath his skin was anything to go by. A navy blue shirt covered pecks that Dean wanted to bite down on, and a trim waist that led down to thick legs. The hands holding the toolbox flexed around the handle, and deans eyes shot back up to the strangers face.

“Dean?” the man asked in a low rumble.

He shifted his weight to his other foot to disguise the full body shudder that went through his body at the sound of his name coming from the man's plush lips. “Yeah. Uh, yes. You’re Cassie?”

The man frowned. “Castiel, actually.”

“Oh, sorry.” Dean coughed awkwardly and had to jerk himself out of his awkward staring when Cas pointedly glanced over Deans shoulder. “Come in, man. I’ll show you the table.”

Cas nodded and walked, saying nothing as Dean scrambled to show him into the dining room. “Uh, I wanted to thank you for coming out here and-”

“Sam is a friend…” he stated simply, cutting Dean off.

“Right…” Dean shook his head and pointed to the damaged table. “There it is. I didn’t really get to talk about the damage when I was on the phone yesterday, but its kinda bad.”

Castiel walked up to the table and rubbed his hand over the scratched surface reverently, avoiding the sharp crystal that was still sticking up. "How did this happen?"

Dean chuckled nervously and pointed to the outlet. "The chandelier was plugged in over there, and I tripped on it as I walked by. Then, um...the ceiling hook popped out and the chandelier fell."

The man nodded. "Bad luck, but the table isn’t as damaged as you think."

Hope began to bloom in his chest. "Do you think you can fix it?"

Castiel stood up to his full height and scrutinized Dean. "Yes. I will have to sand and restain it. If I can have use of the backyard patio, I can do that today and then return to put the varnish on tomorrow."

Dean's knees felt weak in relief. "Thank god, Castiel. Seriously, thank you. I don’t know what to do, man...I'll pay you, of course."

Castiel shook his head and his frown deepened. "There is no need to pay me, Dean. Sam is a good friend of mine and he would be very upset if he came home and saw that his table had been ruined."

Dean nodded, ashamed that he couldn’t even watch his brothers house without fucking things up, and now this sexy man knew it too. He tried to flash Castiel a smile and regain just a bit of his confidence. "So, how do you know Sammy?"

The man wasn’t even looking, instead he was bent over his tool box and pulling out a screwdriver. "Trivia night at the Roadhouse."

Dean couldn’t help but let out a noise of surprise. Sammy had been trying to get him to come to trivia night since the kid began attending. No wonder Sammy had given up after a few months. Dean had to push down a bit of jealousy. It was irrational, Dean knew, to feel jealous that Sam had replaced him. Because he hadn’t. He had practically told Sammy to shove Trivia Night up his ass. "Oh, that’s cool."

"Yes. We began as trivia partners and became friends very quickly. Neither of us had friends or family who were willing to attend with us." The man stood up and locked eyes with Dean. "I will need to flip this table so I can take off the legs. Will you assist?"

Dean stepped up to help. Together, the flipped the table and set it down gently on the cream carpet. He brushed his hands on his jeans and cleared his throat. "Do you need anything? Water? Soda? A sandwich?"

Castiel didn’t look up from where he was carefully unscrewing the ornately carved legs from the table. “No.”

Deans whole face was red by now in embarrassment. Usually he didn’t have to work nearly so hard to have a conversation with someone, especially someone as attractive as Cas. “Cool. Um…do I need to do anything?”

Cas just looked at Dean, a slight tilt to his head making him look like a confused bird. “No.”

Dean nodded. “Right, yeah…of course.” He took a step back. “I’m just going to…” he pointed behind him. “Be in the living room if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Dean.” He crouched next to his toolbox and started rummaging through it. “May I have use of the backyard?”

“Yeah, sure. The back door is through the kitchen.”

“I know.”

“Oh, okay then.” Dean took another step backwards, and was about to turn around for the refuge of the living room, but he stopped himself and cleared his throat awkwardly. “So, I’ll check in on you soon.”

Once he reached the safety of his living room, Dean breathed a sign of relief. Fuck, that was bad. Why was it about that man that was turning him into such a mess? Castiel was attractive, all right, but he was clearly not into Dean. Like, at all. Which was fine. Completely fine. You didn’t win them all.

Fifteen minutes later, just as the episode of house hunters had ended, Dean was roused from his relaxation by a presence in the doorway.

“Dean.” Cas said once he had Deans attention. “Will you help me move the table out to the patio?”

He jumped to his feet. “Of course. Anything, man.”

They entered the room and Dean saw that Cas had removed all 4 legs. “I’ve already put down a moving blanket, so it needs to go on top of that, right side up.”

The damn thing ended up being heavy as hell, and that really shouldn’t be surprising since the thing was 6ft long and made of one solid piece of wood. When Dean finally placed his end down, he had to wipe the sweat from his forehead and arch a kink out of his back until it cracked. “Anything else?”

“No.” Cas stood up from where he was crouched down next to the table and examining the damage. “I’ll be getting my tools now.”

Dean stood by the table until Cas returned carrying a complicated looking sander and a box full of attachments. “So, Cas…” he immediately cringed at himself for giving a nickname to someone he barely knew, but the man didn’t correct him. “this table is pretty cool. How long did it take you?”

“A few weeks, although I was working on a few other things at the same time.”

“Really? That’s cool. I feel really bad now, though. I’m sorry I ruined the table.”

Cas folded his arms and met Deans eyes. “Its not ruined, Dean. This is fixable.”

He nodded. “I know, but you worked hard on it, so…”

Cas was giving him a strange look. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Do you mind if I watch you work?”

The mans eyebrows rose. “You’re interested?”

Dean had to force down an embarrassed laugh. “Well, yeah. The table is great, Cas, and you’re obviously amazing at what you do.”

The corners of Cas’s lips lifted in a small smile. “Thank you, Dean. I’m finding that you are nothing like what your brother described you as.”

He couldn’t help but frown. Great. Sammy had probably told Cass all kinds of horrible things about him. Maybe that was why Cas hadn’t seemed very welcoming. “Well, whatever he said was a lie.”

Cas actually chuckled at that, and seeing Cas’s eyes crinkle was doing things to Deans stomach that he would never admit out loud. “Really?”

Dean smirked at him. “I guess that depends on what he told you.”

Cas seemed to hesitate. “Well, he mentioned that you were interested in cars.”

Dean shrugged, because at least that was true. “What did he say? Throw him under the bus, man.”

Cas frowned at him. “Sam isn’t deserving of such violence, Dean.”

His eyes widened. “No! it’s a phrase, Cas.” Oh god, could this man get any cuter? “I meant, uh…don’t hold back. You know?”

Cas was still frowning, but he nodded anyway. “Thank you, I’d never heard that particular phrase before. Like I said, Sam mentioned that you are interested in Cars, but he also implied that you were rather one dimensional.”

Now it was Deans turn to frown. “One dimensional?”

“He never said it implicitly, but he implied that you’re interests are very singular…that you don’t have any other interests and always turn him down when he tries to expand your horizons. That you’re quite stubborn in that regard. It wasn’t a very flattering description of you.”

He had to clear his throat to dislodge the lump that was forming. Dean was going to murder Sam. “Geeze, Cas…don’t hold back. And I like things other than cars. I just don’t like all of Sammy’s hippie shit. He tries to get me to eat kale, and do yoga…”

Cas smiled at him. “He does eat a lot of kale.”

Dan laughed. “Hell yeah, he does. I like plenty of things, Cas.”

“Just not yoga.”

Dean nodded happily. “Exactly. I love my brother, but he’s into some shit that I just cant stand. I don’t like any of the things he’s trying to get me to do and most of the time I refuse to try, but that’s just with his crap. I tried one of his green smoothies once, and that was he last time. I like cars, yeah…but I also like to listen to music, and I can cook a kick ass burger. Um, I used to be able to play the guitar, and I can fix pretty much anything…” Dean forced himself to stop, worried that Cas would see him as showing off.

“He obviously sees you through the lens of a younger brother, although I’ll be sure to give him a hard time for selling you so short. I think that you have a lot more to you, Dean Winchester.”

This time, Dean did blush. Heavily. “Thanks, Cas.”

Cas reached into his canvas bag and pulled out a paper mask and protective eye wear for dean to put on. “You may stay, but I insist you wear these.”

Dean smiled and winked at Cas as he accepted the safety gear. Cas worked on the table with speed that only comes with years of practice, sanding large areas of the table down evenly and exposing the wood underneath. Then, with some of the attachments, he began sanding the stain out of the carvings, taking the table back to its original color. With the loudest part done, Cas took a few minutes to suck most of the sawdust into a shop-vac, and then began staining the table with sure strokes off a brush. Dean watched as he took a dirty rag, wiping away the excess stain that was sitting on the top of the wood. It still looked dull without the shine, but at least the color was back.

When Cas took off his mask, he smiled at Dean. “Is the offer for a sandwich still on the table?”

Dean pulled off his mask and chewed on his lip thoughtfully. “Is ham and cheese ok?”

Cas nodded and pulled off his stained gloves before following Dean into the kitchen. He sat down on a stool and observed Dean as he pulled the ingredients out of the fridge and began putting the sandwiches together. “I need to make sure the stain is completely dry, so I’d like to come back tomorrow to add the varnish if that’s okay.”

Dean waited until he closed both sandwiches before he replied so he could fight down a goofy smile. “Yeah.” He placed the plate in front of Cas and sat himself across. “Anytime you want, ok? You’re doing me a real favor here. Seriously. Thank you.”

“It is nothing, Dean.” He took a bite of the sandwich and smiled around his mouthful. “Thank you for the sandwich.”

“You’re welcome, Cas.”

Cas hummed thoughtfully. “I like that you call me Cas.”

“Yeah, well…Castiel is a cool name, but its pretty long.”

“My brother calls me Cassie, and I have a friend that calls me Clarence, but you’re the only one who’s ever called me Cas.”

“Well, its better than Cassie.”

Cas chuckled at that. “Yes, I agree.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes, only interrupted by Dean offering Cas a drink, to which he accepted. “So…” Dean started nervously after he set a glass of ice water in front of Cas. “You’ll be coming back tomorrow?”

Cas nodded. “Yes. I’ll need to put the varnish on the table, and perhaps do some detail work. Thankfully, none of the carving was damaged when the chandelier fell. If it had, it would be nearly impossible to fix, and I would have had to improvise. As it is, Sam and Eileen should be none the wiser. That being said, you should probably fix the hole in the ceiling.”

Dean let out a deep breath. “Oh, I will. I can probably spin it and say I installed it for them as a present. I don’t want to lie to the kid, but since you’re able to fix it I don’t feel too bad about not telling him.”

Cas smirked at Dean, a devious glint in his eyes. “I promise to not say a word, Dean.”

He laughed in surprise and tipped his water to Cas in a toast.

Cas stayed for only a few minutes after he took the last bite of his sandwich. The moment the door shut behind Cas, Dean rushed into Sam’s office with a hissed curse.

Sam was one of the most organized people that Dean had ever known, and if his brother failed him now, Dean was going to have to kill him. He pulled open Sam’s filing cabinet and sorted through countless files on his court cases before moving onto he next drawer with a growl. Finally, with a shout of triumph, Dean found what he was looking for in the back of the third drawer down. He pulled out the file labeled ‘Home Renovation’ reverently and placed it on Sammy’s desk before opening it carefully. Buried in the middle, between information on flooring companies and an envelope containing paint samples, was a sheet of paper, a printout, with a picture of a lighting fixture on it.

Dean lifted the paper up to his mouth and kissed it. “Thank you Sammy.”

He grabbed his keys and left for the hardware store in a hurry. He had to get the damn lighting fixed before Cas came back the next day, or else he ran the risk of ruining the fixed table. With a glance at his watch, he frowned. He had to buy the fixture, an industrial thing with way too much copper for Deans taste, all of the supplies he would need to wire the damn thing, and he had to run to the grocery store. Dean would be an idiot to not take this opportunity to show Cas that when he said he made a mean burger, he wasn’t exaggerating.

As soon as Dean got back to Sam’s place, he put away his groceries and went right back out of the door and back into his car to grab his tool box. He should have everything he needed in the bag including the small saw he would need to cut into the ceiling. Dean found a stepping stool in the broom closet and got to work.

By 6pm, 4 hours after Cas had left, Dean flipped on the light switch and lit up the room with the warm glow of Sam’s new chandelier. He took a step back to appreciate his work and let out a big sigh. The table would be fixed, the small hole in the ceiling was gone, replaced by the new light, and Sam wouldn’t even know that Dean had fucked anything up. Hell, they would probably thank him for installing the new light.

Dean went to bed that night only feeling slightly guilty about the whole ordeal.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

The next morning, Dean made some lemonade and mixed his secret beef patty recipe in preparation for Cas’s arrival. He was going to charm the socks off of Cas and use his hamburgers to score a date if it was the last thing he did.

This time, when Dean answered the door, Cas was wearing a dark gray Henley and a pair of jeans that sported rips at the knees. Both were obviously work clothes, if the stains were anything to go by, but damn…he still looked good. “Hello Dean.”

Dean smiled back and stepped to the side, gesturing for Cas to enter. “Hey, Cas. Thanks for coming again. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m making burgers for lunch if you want any.”

Cas’s expression turned serious, but there was a playful glint in his eye. “Burgers make me very happy.”

"Well, its a good thing that I can make a burger that will knock your socks off."

The man laughed and leaned towards Dean, his lips tilting up in a smirk. "I cant wait. You can tell a lot about a person by what they put on a burger. So what do you like?"

Dean almost couldnt answer, he was so caught up in the suggestive look Cas was giving him. Was he flirting? Dean didnt know. "Just the classics. Tomato, lettuce, onion, and cheese. Anything else covers up the flavor of the meat."

Cas raised his eyebrows. "Do you like the flavor of meat?"

Ok. Cas was definittely flirting with him, and flirting back was one thing he could definitely do. "Yes. And I think you'll love mine."

This time, Cas laughed. "Will I? Then I cant wait to try it."

Dean laughed with him, happy to finally be in a situation he was familiar with. Flirting was practically second nature to him. “Well good. I don’t know how long it will take you to do everything…”

“Not too long. I have to clean it off again, get rid of any dust or anything that accumulated over night, and then apply the varnish. Shouldn’t take me more than a hour. Then, once it dries, I’ll put the legs back on and that will be it. I would recommend not using the table for another few days though, just in case.”

Dean watched as Cas uncovered the table and surveyed it with a critical eye. “I can have the burgers ready in an hour…”

He smiled up at Dean and started unpacking the cans of varnish and his brushes. “Sounds great, Dean. Thank you.”

“Listen, Cas. I’m extremely grateful for your help, but you gotta let me pay you back. You didn’t have to do this, and-”

“Dean.” Cas glanced up at him from where he was crouched. “Making me lunch is more than enough payback.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, but-”

“I told you, Sam is a friend of mine, and I am starting to feel the same way about you. Please don’t feel that you need to pay me for this.”

“I know, but-”

“Dean, please.”

Dean let out a sigh of frustration. God, he needed to just get it over with, didnt he? “Let me take you out to eat, Cas.”

Cas, whose mouth had already been forming an argument, paused and he took a second to put the cans down before he turned back to Dean. “You want to take me out?”

Dean couldn’t help but blush. “Well, yeah. Its not going to be fancy or anything, but you gotta let me do something.”

“Yes, but-”

“Cas.” Dean cut him off, his voice going soft. “Let me do this. Please.”

Cas brushed his hands off of his knees and stood up, fully facing Dean. "I don’t want to offend you by asking this, but would this be a date?”

And Dean didn’t know how to answer that because yes, he did want it to be a date, but he wasn’t going to go out of his way to actually say it. Here Cas was, though, forcing it out of Dean. “Well, did you want it to be one?”

“Dean…” Cas began and he took a step closer to the other man. “I’m not very good at reading people. I believe we were just flirting, but...”

Dean, encouraged by the hopeful look on Cas’s face, placed his hand on Cas’s arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Uh, Yeah. A date.”

The look on Cas’s face was worth all of the discomfort Dean was feeling. “Well then, Yes. I’ll go out with you.”

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

Sam walked through the door, still high on the wonderful two weeks he had spent with his lovely wife in Switzerland. He gave the house a cursory glance on his way to the kitchen. The house hadn’t been burned down, no furniture was broken, and it was just as clean as he left it. Not that he assumed that Dean would have left the place a mess, but he at least expected a beer bottle or two left out. All together, he was pleasantly surprised.

He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and walked to the fridge for some water, and saw that a note was taped at Sam’s eye level. He nervously pulled it off and began to read it.

“Going out with Cas. I’ll call to check in later.  
Hope you enjoyed your trip.  
Installed your new chandelier, you’re welcome.”

Sam frowned at the note and glanced at his wife, who was reading over his shoulder. ‘ _C-a-s_ ’ he finger signed, indicating a question.

She shrugged. _Castiel_? She asked, using his sign name.

 _He knows Cas?_ he asked her.  _I dont think so._

Eileen shrugged again and began signing. _Maybe? I didn’t know_.

He put down the note. _Cas never said anything. Dont think its him._

She bit her lip in thought. _Probably not him, then. Didn’t he date a Cassie at one point? Reconnection?_

Sam frowned and shook his head. _Broke up a long time ago. Ended badly, I think. Not likely._

She just shook her head and grabbed his hand, pulling him through the house to the dining room where they flipped on the light switch and saw that Dean had, indeed, installed a chandelier for them. The exact one they had planned on buying.

A string hung from the copper fixture with a note tied to the bottom. He tugged it free and eyed it suspiciously. “Happy anniversary.” It said in Deans messy scrawl.

He raised his eyebrow at his wife in suspicion. It was a nice gesture, and it wasn’t like his brother had never done them a favor before, but nice gestures were usually Deans way of apologizing. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong though, and Sam was sure he would have noticed if anything was off.

Eileen just smiled at him and took his hand in hers. _Just accept it._

He held up his hands, signed a few words of suspicion, but dropped them in defeat. _Okay._ He signed instead, and then followed his wife into their bedroom so they could begin to unpack.

Dean came back later that night to check in on them. When asked how his date had gone, Dean just shrugged and said it had been nice. Dean refused to tell his brother that this was his third date with Cas. It wasn’t his brothers business that tonight was the night that he had finally kissed the man. That he had leaned in and captured Cas’s lips with his own, and the man tasted just as good as he thought he would. He wasn’t going to tell him that it was enough to make his toes curl and breath come out in a rush. Dean didn’t tell him that when they parted ways, Dean had to sit in his car for five minutes before he could drive again. He didn’t tell him that they had already planned a fourth date and Dean was already head over heals for the handsome man.

He just smiled and asked Eileen to show him all of the pictures they had taken, to which she happily obliged.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated.


End file.
